The Kingdom of Wammy and the Reign of L the First
by NoblesseOublie
Summary: An AU story of Death Note in the style of the legends of Camelot.


**The Legend of the Kingdom of Wammy and the Reign of L the First**

Author: Noblesse Oublie

Fandom: Death Note

Pairing: None Yet.

Type: AU, in the style of the legends of Camelot.

Genre: Drama / Slight Comedy

Warnings: None So Far.

Disclaimer: I own none of Death Note

**Chapter 1: Letters**

Two letters, both bearing the same seal pressed into black wax and the same message scribbled finely in equally black ink, traveled to opposite ends of the land. The first, to a gilded desk in a palace tower, and the other to a shamble of tents, the only remnants of a once great kingdom leveled by war and plague.

The recipients of these misleadingly plain looking letters, would be two princes, alike in status and lineage but worlds apart in character and thought.

Prince Nathaniel of the House of River would be the first to receive his letter, handed to him by his manservant Lester as the prince was distracted with constructing a castle of cards. And for nearly a day the letter would sit unopened until the prince was satisfied that his card fortress was complete, and only then did he instruct his servant to open the letter and read it aloud.

Lester, a man of much skill both as personal guard as well as personal keeper of the youngest prince of the kingdom, had his misgivings when he opened the letter to find just a single sentence centered on the whole of the page.

And it read:

"At the request of King L, you have been summoned to the Kingdom of Wammy."

And that was all. No date, no instruction. No map nor explanation. Not even the king's full name, though it was known throughout all the kingdoms that the mysterious and eccentric king L never gave his full name, nor even showed his face in public. And for this reason few if any of the neighboring kingdoms had dealings with the Kingdom of Wammy, which for the most part remained an isolated neutral world of its own, no man coming nor going.

Here Lester expressed his uncertainty, urging the prince to ignore the letter as the concerns of the Kingdom of Wammy were no concern to the House of River. They were neither allies nor enemies, and never in recorded history had a Wammy King come to the aid of a River or vice versa.

Prince Nathaniel, however, chided the man with these words, "A lack of past does not negate the need for a future. Inform King L that I shall accept his invitation." And a quirk then turned up his lips as he took a toy knight in hand. "I am curious to see where this leads."

Perhaps it was time the Kingdom of River no longer overlooked this strange king's land.

And with great reluctance the servant Lester went to do his lord's bidding.

Now as one might recall, there was a second letter, one en route to a land left scorched by battle and famine. And here was the ruin of the House of Keehl, of which only a single prince and his knight remained. In a cluster of tents they now resided amongst the few surviving villagers of their kingdom, as the prince, Mihael by name, nightly cursed the weakness of his father's rule and the future glory of which he had been robbed. And it was during one of these nocturnal rampages that his knight and closest friend, Mail, son of the Lord Jeevas, brought to him the letter.

The seal was hastily broken and the page unfolded to reveal once again that single sentence.

"At the request of King L, you have been summoned to the Kingdom of Wammy."

And here Prince Mihael gave a snort and threw the letter back at his knight. "What foolishness have you brought me? I am not going to waste my time on some king who's off in the head and finds it fun to play games while some of us have bigger things to worry about."

"And what have we to worry about?" Mail quipped, mind set to egg his master on.

"The lack of a kingdom, you fool or have you gone blind and not noticed we are living in squalor?"

"My point exactly."

Mihael grew tired of this nonsense quickly and slumping into a large chair held up his sword, tilting it and letting the blade shine as the point did brush against his knight's throat. "State your point, or you shall know this one."

Mail would have laughed if he had not thought the movement would bring the metal directly into his throat. But he knew his prince would not strike at him, for all the hundreds of times he'd had his life threatened by this man from the time they were children it had always proved to be an empty threat. "You are in need of a throne. The King of Wammy has just that and no army to speak of."

"You are suggesting I take the Wammy King's throne?" The sword lowered, now held loose in the prince's hand, dark hilt rolling in his palm as he considered the possibility. "King L's kingdom for my own..." Not the first kingdom he would have chosen, but a prize nonetheless. Already he could see it, his crest risen above the castle and a crown on his head.

"Unless you think it would be too hard," the knight sing-songed, certain to step out of range while mocking.

And a goblet was tossed his way, clipping his head as the prince stood. "You forget your place, Mail." A toss of his golden hair and a slide of his sword into its sheath and the prince's mind was made up. "Send a messenger and tell the King we are on our way."

However, while intrigue and lust for power spurred on the princes from their native lands, unrest and unease plagued the advisers to King L. Men who had seen the kingdom through its yearly transformations with the seasons for decades now, found themselves ponderous at the window watching the moon as they wondered what would become of this land. And they questioned most what their king was planning for never before had a king of Wammy opened their court to a foreigner, and now two princes would be making audience there.

"I hope you are certain," Lord Roger finally stated, eyes to the back of the throne that sat facing the fire. "This will change everything."

And silence followed, or so he thought, for an old man's ears could not hear the thoughtful hum of a young king that was drowned out by the cracking and popping of the flames. It was only after a long moment that the king raised his voice just enough to be heard, feet pulling up from the floor to rest and the edge of his seat. "You question my methods, Roger?"

A hesitation. And then a resignation. "I do not."

"Then please ready the Kingdom for our guests' arrival."


End file.
